


Ben Wakes Up Naked

by Melusine11



Series: Melusine attempts to fix it [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Banter, Ben's Good Boy Sweater finds a new home, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Force Ghost Leia, Loss of Virginity, Love, Naked Ben, Post TRoS but happy, Rey is a Scavenger, and she has scavenged a sweater for herself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 02:33:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22088593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melusine11/pseuds/Melusine11
Summary: He’s oddly chilled. And his head is throbbing. “Rey,” he whispers, reaching out for her. Force, that’s embarrassing, he must have passed out right after that kiss. His hand meets air, and then falls beside him, where it lands on fabric. Which isn’t right, is it, they had been on a stone floor.His senses unfurl, and he hears noise, people, a lot of people. He blinks his eyes open, and the world is bright, not the muted blues of Exegol. There’s a quiet thrum close by from machinery instead of the oppressive quiet of the depths of the temple. Rey isn’t here. And he isn’t where he was, which begs the question,where is he?
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Melusine attempts to fix it [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1708846
Comments: 107
Kudos: 711
Collections: TROS Reylo Fix-it Fics





	Ben Wakes Up Naked

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [meritmut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meritmut/pseuds/meritmut) for letting me inflict this upon you first and [tmwillson3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmwillson3/pseuds/tmwillson3) for the beta read.
> 
>   
> 

He’s oddly chilled. And his head is throbbing. “Rey,” he whispers, reaching out for her. Force, that’s embarrassing, he must have passed out right after that kiss. His hand meets air, and then falls beside him, where it lands on fabric. Which isn’t right, is it, they had been on a stone floor. 

His senses unfurl, and he hears noise, people, a lot of people. He blinks his eyes open, and the world is bright, not the muted blues of Exegol. There’s a quiet thrum close by from machinery instead of the oppressive quiet of the depths of the temple. Rey isn’t here. And he isn’t where he was, which begs the question, _where is he?_

He gives himself another moment and then sits up. “Ah.” The sound escapes him unbidden, but he sees now why he was so cold. He’s completely naked. He’s on some sort of platform, and his feet overhang it, so he just scoots down until he can sit with his legs hanging off of it. His gaze travels over the interior of the space.

“They’ll be here soon.” The soft voice startles another sound out of him, and he almost topples from his seat as he turns. He stares; he can’t help it. “I meant you should cover up; though I suppose you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“ _Mom_!” he hisses, clapping his hands over his front. 

“Oh please,” Leia says, waving a translucent hand in the air between them. “Not like I haven’t seen it before. You can thank your father for that.”

“ _Mom!”_ he hisses again. He’s also pretty sure he’s blushing; this is not the reunion he had ever expected.

“Ben.” She smiles at him, steps closer and reaches out, hand hovering over the last place he had felt his father’s touch, where Rey had marked him for so long, where her touch had lingered while they kissed. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’m sorry I couldn’t hang on for longer.”

Ben blinks furiously, reveling in the touch of his mother’s force against his skin. “I’m sorry, too,” he whispers. “For so much, for-”

“Shhh,” she cuts him off. “None of that. I made a lot of mistakes in my life, Ben, and maybe we can discuss that one day, if you’re willing. For now, I just wanted to see your handsome face one more time.” Her touch becomes corporeal and warm, and Ben’s breathing becomes erratic as tears threaten to overwhelm him. “You know,” Leia tells him gently. “The last thing I said to your father, was that if he saw you, to bring you home.”

Ben reaches for her, hand still solid as he grips it and cries. “He did,” Ben croaks, pressing his face into his mother's hand for the first time in he can’t remember when. “He did, Mom. I’m sorry I took so long.”

Leia hums, looking amused. “I’m sure you got that from him. Ben, I love you.” Her touch is gone; she’s already fading.

“I love you, too.” He feels so helpless as he watches her disappear. He reaches up, touching his face where her hand had been and closes his eyes to savor it.

“Ben Solo.” This time the voice does startle him enough that he jumps from the table. Definitely doesn’t fall from it, no. 

“Maz?” He asks, blinking down at the diminutive alien, who is very much staring at him. With a hiss, he snatches the sheet from where he had just been and hastily wraps it around his waist.

“Thought I sensed you. Where is Rey?”

“Is she not here?”

Maz turns and looks out into the forest. More ships are landing; everyone is celebrating. “She’ll be here,” Maz determines with a nod, then turns back to him. “You need to stay hidden.”

Ben snorts. “You think?”

“At least until we find you some clothes.”

Ben watches her wander away almost stupefied. Then he sits again. Then he stands and begins to pace, one hand holding tight around the sheet and the other clenching and unclenching as he walks. He can’t figure out what happened. He’s sure he didn’t almost die again, but maybe he did. He had never been that proficient at healing, and maybe he messed something up while pulling at the Force.

The noise from beyond doesn’t change, but the feeling does. And he knows she’s here. It takes everything he has not to run out there and capture her in his arms once more. She is crying, he can feel it, her grief, and he has to sit down again, because it’s too much, because if he doesn’t he will go out to her.

It takes forever. The sky is growing dark before anyone comes back to where he is, and it’s Maz again, smiling as she hovers in the entry and waves a hand at him.

“Most people are still celebrating. Fortunately for you, that means drinking and sex and _not_ paying attention to tall naked men wandering around camp.”

“Because other people will be wandering around naked?” he asks, and it makes her laugh.

“Hopefully not too many,” she says, stopping in front of a curtain. It’s the only one in the area. “For all our sakes.” Maz pats his left hand and then wanders off into the night, back towards the noise of celebration, leaving him alone. 

He glances around, not sure what to do since there’s nowhere to knock and it would be slightly rude to just barge into her space. However he doesn’t have to worry for long, because the fabric jerks to the side and he’s left staring into Rey’s wide, surprised eyes.

There is just enough time to take in her swollen eyes, blotchy expression, that her hair is down, and the fact that she’s wearing what suspiciously looks like his sweater _and only that,_ before she lets go, and the curtain flutters shut between them.

“If this is your idea of some sort of joke-” she starts, and then squeaks in surprise when he lifts the fabric and steps inside.

“No joke,” he says shaking his head. “You’re wearing my sweater.”

Rey crosses her arms over her chest, and she’s crying again, silently. Ben aches from it. “It’s mine now,” she informs him almost haughtily, and he laughs before stepping further into this small space she has made her own and taking her into his arms.

“It looks better on you, my little scavenger,” he whispers into her hair, and she hiccups against his flesh as she cries.

“I don’t understand. I thought you were gone,” she babbles, hands reaching around him, fingertips pressing deep into his flesh. “I thought you left me alone.”

“Never,” he promises, holding her close and letting his own tears fall. She composes herself by pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes and then blinks up at him. She’s still a mess, but he gets it, wouldn’t have her any other way.

“Come sit,” she beckons, finally looking at what he’s wearing, or more importantly, _not_ _wearing_ , and he can see the surprise flicker across her face before she schools herself to look as disinterested as she can. He sits, and she remains standing, hovering. Ben doesn’t mind because, yes, Rey is wearing his sweater, and he was right at first glance. Her legs and feet are bare, his shirt stopping just above her midthigh. It’s endearing, the way it hangs on her frame, drooping down over one shoulder and covering her hands. It makes her look smaller than she is.

“What’s wrong?” he eventually asks, not used to her being like this. He’s used to her anger, her fire, her little bouts of joy, but never this.

“Are you naked?” she blurts and then worries the long sleeves of his shirt between her hands, pushing them up and then pulling them back down to hide her hands completely. “No, don’t answer that, I know the answer, I — you left everything.”

“Not intentionally, I can assure you,” he drawls, shifting on her bed. She picks her way across the small space and pulls out a box. Ben watches the way she removes his things, gently and reverently. First is the blaster, then the second saber, then she pulls out his dark pants. They’re still covered in dirt, but she dips her hand inside and pulls out his underwear, surprising a laugh out of him.

“Do you own anything besides black?” she asks, tossing them at him and closing up the box, laying his pants out over it. 

“Not anymore,” he tells her, trying to figure out how to get the briefs on without being _completely_ naked in front of Rey.

“I can just—” she turns her back to him, and Ben wastes no time in slipping into his briefs.

“Do you want me to put on a cowl or something?” He asks, and she turns so quickly she almost loses her balance. Ben reaches out, ready to steady her, but she rights herself easily.

“Was that a joke just now?” she asks sounding surprised and Ben shrugs. 

“It was.” 

She sounds happy, and he watches her smile. While it’s still very clear she had been crying, her smile is a bright thing, that makes warmth bloom in his chest. 

“The answer is no, though,” she tells him, crawling onto the bed with him, settling to sit with her legs folded beneath her as she faces him. Her hand hovers in the air between them, and he watches it approach his chest slowly, fingertips landing a glancing blow before the palm settles solid and flat against him.

“What are you doing?” he asks, amused, as he turns towards her.

“Just double checking you’re really here.”

“Oh, Rey,” Ben whispers, catching her hand and bringing it up to his mouth, kissing her fingertips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She watches him, mouth open just slightly and eyes tracking the path of his mouth. He smiles at her, lowering their hands between them, and releases a surprised grunt when she tackles him back against the bed. Ben stares up at her, smiling lightly as she looks down at him. Then her eyes are closing, and she’s kissing him again. 

It’s better this time, he thinks. 

Away from the pain of that place, here in a place she has made her own. Her skin is flushed with life and not the sick pallor of lingering death, and she’s wearing his clothes. He groans into the kiss when her tongue dips into his mouth, and his hands press into Rey’s body over the fabric of his shirt. 

Ben rolls them onto their sides, so they’re laying next to each other, pressed together, and Rey slings a leg over his hip as she pulls back from him, breathing heavily and eyes still shining bright, this time from a different kind of tear. He swipes a finger under her eye, brushing down over her nose, and then he leans in to kiss the tip of it.

“Be with me,” she whispers, arching into him when he begins to press kisses down over her neck, and then the naked swath of skin revealed by the large collar of his shirt.

“Always,” he assures her, humming in contentment at the way her hands roam over his flesh. She shifts against him, and he grunts at the feel of the heat of her against him. “Rey,” he gasps, before kissing her again, hands fisting in the sweater, hauling it up inch by inch. For a moment he thinks he might be being too rough with her, is afraid of pulling away to find her lips bruised, but she gives as good as she gets and he stops worrying and lets himself feel.

His hands slide up her body beneath the sweater, and he groans into the kiss at finding her naked beneath it. Her skin is soft, and she’s sensitive. Rey whines a moan into his mouth as his fingers tease her nipples. He wants to taste her. 

“Off,” Rey confirms, snatching the blanket that is draped around him still and flinging it away. “Off,” she mutters between more heated kisses as her fingers dip beneath the waistband of his briefs and tickle the skin where his thigh and groin meet. 

“I want you in this,” he tells her, lips leaving kisses against her jaw now, as his hands toy with the hem of his shirt. He pushes it up though, baring all of her to him. Then he dips down, mouth enclosing over one enticingly pink nipple while he follows her instructions and pushes his briefs off. He was barely in them, and he hears her huff a laugh above him.

“Tell me what you like,” he begs, mouth against her breast.

Rey's fingers push into his hair, and she moves beneath him, letting her legs fall open so he can lay between them. “I like you,” she answers. “I’ll tell you if I don’t like anything; just touch me, kiss me,” she inhales sharply as he moves, pressing a kiss to her other breast. “Love me.”

“Rey,” he marvels and kisses her again in the same spot. “Yes.”

She’s wet, he could feel it before, can definitely feel it now, her core pressed against his lower stomach. She’s going to make a mess of him, but not before he makes a mess of her first. Reluctantly she lets go of his hair with a tiny mournful whimper as he kisses his way down her body. He presses her legs wider with his palms and lays down, inhaling the heady musky scent of her before licking her from bottom to top. Rey jolts against him, hands finding him once more as she gasps his name. He’s never done this before; though he’s definitely watched more than one illicit holovid dedicated to the act. Instead he relies on the noises Rey makes, the directions she funnels through their bond until she’s panting his name, holding his head in place and taking her pleasure until her thighs tremble and her muted cry splits the silence of the night around them.

He presses one last lingering kiss to her there between her legs and then moves up her body, licking at his lips. His sweater is still rucked up above her breasts, and her hair is an absolute mess. But, her smile is bright, and her laugh is like music to his ears as she pulls him down for a kiss.

There are no words; they don’t need them, not with the bond and the easy understanding that flows between them. 

He doesn’t need to say the words, as he settles at her entrance, breath coming in ragged gasps, but he says them anyway. “I love you.” Beneath him, she shifts. He presses inside, just the tip, but he grunts at the sensation. She’s hot and wet, and he nudges forward an inch more, letting her heat envelop him. He keeps his gaze locked on her, the way she bites her lip when he first enters her, then lets her mouth fall open as he rocks gently inside of her until she takes all of him.

“Ben,” she croons his name, eyes fluttering shut and then opening again. “Ben.” He feels it, the words, the sensation through the bond before she speaks, but he revels in hearing them. “I love you. I love you so much.” Her legs move around him, knees pressing into his ribs as they move together. His sweater has begun to drift down, covering her left breast, and he reaches, pushing it back up and letting his hand linger there, thumb brushing back and forth over the pebbled peak of her. Her hands press into him, slip over the slick skin of his back, and he lets out an ‘ _oof’_ of surprise when she rolls them.

He slips out of her for a moment, but she’s there, holding his sweater up with one hand so she can see him, while her other wraps around his cock, sticky with her juices, and lines him back up with her entrance. Ben’s hands grip her thighs hard as she begins to lower herself onto him. She smiles down at him when he practically whimpers, and she laughs quietly when she hears him think he won’t ever admit out loud that he actually whimpered at the feel of her.

“Your secret is safe with me,” she assures him, and then rolls her hips, releasing the sweater in favor of finding purchase on his abdomen, long sleeves of the garment covering her hands. She hisses a bit, a line forming between her brows, but then she smiles. “I don’t want to stroke your ego, but you’re pretty big, Ben.”

“Don’t need to stroke it when you’re stroking other things,” he responds before thinking twice about it, and she swats at his chest, only the gentle brush of fabric across his chest making any kind of contact. “I love you,” he amends, and she smiles, rolling her eyes, but there's affection in the gesture. Ben’s hand drifts up her thigh, thumb edging back beneath the hem of his sweater, twisting it until it shifts enough so he can see them both, the way she stretches around his cock, the mess they’re making together.

“Tell me what you need,” he grunts through clenched teeth. “I’m not gonna last much longer, and I wanna feel you.”

“Here,” she whimpers, fabric-covered hand pressing against her, against them both. The roughness of the fabric makes him hiss, but then she keens, and he _feels_ her clench around him. “Oh, Kriff, Ben,” she sobs, her hips jerking against him erratically now as he feels her walls flutter around him.

“That’s it, Rey. That’s it, let go for me, sweetheart,” he babbles, hands gripping her hips bruisingly tight as she loses focus as she comes. He holds onto her, gasping at how tightly she clamps down around his cock, the sudden gush of wetness that coats him as he thrusts up into her twice more before following her over into bliss.

Rey is sprawled across his chest when he’s aware of his body once more. He’s still inside of her, cock softening, and she sighs, breath fanning across his neck. Ben winces when she shifts, and he falls free of her, already missing her warmth.

“Pinch me,” she mutters falling to his side, keeping an arm branded across him. 

“What? Why?” he asks, turning his head to take in her blissed-out expression.

“Just do it,” she insists, and he does, pinching gently at her forearm, smiling bemusedly at her when she opens her eyes and breathes out: “Hi.”

“Hey.”

“You’re still naked,” she observes, blindly reaching for a blanket, curling into his body.

“I am.”

“I don’t think we have clothes here that will fit you.”

Ben hums, rolling towards her, settling the sheet more firmly around them. “We’ll figure it out; I’d at least have a shirt if some scavenger gave it up for a day.”

She leans up and kisses his Adam’s Apple with a happy noise. “Never.”


End file.
